


(Make It) Up to Me

by MerryWriting



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Femdom, Forgive Me, Happy Ending AU, I'm a filthy reylo shipper, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Reylo - Freeform, Rough Sex, bantha sounds, ben likes being the bottom, girl on top, he also likes being top, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryWriting/pseuds/MerryWriting
Summary: Ben snores like a Bantha and its keeping Rey awake... so she wakes him up too. Fair play, right?Shameless reylo pwp #baby'sfirstreylo





	(Make It) Up to Me

Rey clamped the pillow over her head; the snoring, grunting, Bantha of a man beside her was keeping her awake, and looking so happy doing it. When Ben Solo slept he looked like a child in the body of a huge, strapping man.

And wasn’t that just part of the problem; he was so damn huge, such a slab of a human being, that she couldn’t simply move him onto his side. Instead she had to lie and stare at his stupid, dorky nose, and his perfect lips, and his ridiculously soft curls and wish she could throttle him,  
“Ben!” She slapped his arm,  
“M-what?” He grunted awake,  
“Stop snoring.”  
“Yes Ma’am,” he snorted, and promptly went back to sleep. Glorious silence-

A deep, buzzing snore echoed around their room. Rey pulled the pillow over her face and screamed into it,  
“What?!” Ben sat upright, chest heaving. Rey threw the pillow down onto the bed and glared at him in all his sleep mussed glory,  
“Stop. Snoring. Solo.” She hissed.  
“Alright,” he said sleepily and lay back down, “I’ll stop.” She closed her eyes, bracing for the first thunderous snore. When it came she ground her teeth. She had to get some sleep. Rolling onto her side, Rey reached over to pinch his nose. The snoring was worse when his mouth was open. _Mother of Kwath_!

 

She swung her leg over him, and sat on his hips, glaring down at that soft, sleepy face for only a few seconds before slapping it. He hissed awake, eyes focusing on her, flicking down, a smile playing across his lips,  
“You hit me,” he said, licking his lips,  
“You’ve kept me up all night,” she spat, knowing what he was going to say before he did.  
“You never usually complain,” he said, grin turning to a slack-mouthed moan when she ground her hips down,  
“Because usually I get something out of it other than the startling realisation that men really can sound like Bantha!” Rey pushed off of his chest, or she would have if he hadn’t gripped her hips, keeping her tight in place.  
“Let me make it up to you,” he whispered, voice heavy and silky with sleep. Rey rolled her eyes, but the heat starting to pool in her belly made her lips curl. He already knew, of course. She could see the obscenities flickering through his half-awake mind. Ben pushed his hands under her nightgown, but she swatted them aside,  
“If you want to make it up to me lie still and keep your hands on the headboard.” She panted a little; keeping his prying mind away from her plans. His pupils sharpened, and then blew wide as Rey pushed his loose cotton pyjama bottoms down over the muscled bones at his hips.

When they first met he had been so ungainly, all elbows and knees; he was tall, and he gangled, but as he aged he had broadened and hardened where she had become softer and wider in places. She traced the old scar on his face; they hadn’t changed all that much otherwise.  
_“Rey,”_ he still said her name like a prayer. Still begged so well. That hadn’t changed.

She took him into her mouth, relishing the growl as he filled her mouth and, eventually, her throat. He had found some self-control, though; he barely twitched, barely shivered where once he would have been grabbing her hair, trying to take over. Good boy, she smirked when he huffed out a breathless laugh. He tasted like the fruit they grew now. Tasted sweet and musky all at once. Every obscene sound her mouth made on him caused a shudder in his strong legs.  
The power he gave her when he did this, lay helpless and whimpering, was intoxicating… not that he got nothing out of it.  
“You need to grow your hair again,” she gasped, sliding onto him in one smooth stroke, revelling in the sudden, burning pleasure,  
“So you have a handle?” Ben rumbled,  
“So you stop looking like your father.” She teased. He growled in response,  
“That was a low blow,” he gasped, “I’ll never be able to look in the mirror again.”  
“I’ll never be able to look at your father across the dinner table,” she laughed.

 

Then the laughing stopped; they were all tight jaws, and grinding hips, and white knuckles,  
“Kiss me,” he demanded, Rey laughed and leaned down, tracing her lips across his brow, his cheek, his neck, “Rey.” She pressed a single, chaste kiss to his mouth, making her thrusts more and more shallow until he was barely inside her… then, when his mouth was a tight line of fury and his arms were shaking, she took him all again, making his chin snap back, eyes shut tight.  
“Breathe, Ben,” she whispered, raking her nails down his chest just hard enough to leave fine red lines. His eyes cracking open to sear a path across the line of her gown,  
“Take it off,” he said,  
“You’re not in charge here,” she taunted, watching his jaw work,  
“Please.” He grunted, eyes focusing as she leaned down to kiss him roughly,  
“No.” She licked his bottom lip and increased the pace, riding him hard until his breathing became noticeably erratic. He moaned pathetically when she pulled away, leaving his cock to twitch in the still air as his fists clenched over and over and over. When his breaths became calm and his shoulders relaxed she slid onto his length and began the process again.

By the third round the air was thick and damp, every movement made a wet, sucking sound, and the sheets were damp. And he was destroyed; flushed and panting, begging her with his eyes and his whimpers and the part of him that lived in her mind. His fists clenched weakly at the wooden slats that made up the headboard. He was so close. She could feel it, and no doubt he could taste it. When she pulled away and he cried her name in utter agony Rey grinned and peeled her nightgown off, shuddering at the kiss of cool air on her skin,  
“Please,” he gasped, “please Rey.”  
She leaned down to kiss him, biting his lip gently,  
“Yes.” She whispered, grinning when he sobbed and shuddered, hands flying to her hips as he rolled them and desperately pushed himself as far into her cunt as he could. Legs splayed, nails raking lines along his back and arms as he desperately pushed her into the mattress, gasping filth into her ear as he filled her to capacity and then rolled gingerly onto his side of the bed. They lay tangled in the sheets until he staggered to his feet and came back with a warm, wet wash cloth. Cleaning behind her knees, between her thighs, down her slit with tender thoroughness Ben smiled wearily and then flopped onto the bed. Rey let him kiss her again and again and again; he was surprisingly sentimental, still. Then they lapsed into the afterglow.

Rey smiled in to the darkness.

A low, rumbling snore sounded to her left,  
“Oh mother of-” she almost howled before snatching her pillow and the duvet on her way to the guest room.


End file.
